


Deep as the Ocean

by RiotFalling



Series: Curse you, Bucky! [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Confirmed monsterfucker Tony Stark, Consentacles, Especially considering I was just trying to write smut, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Tentacles, a crazy amount of avengers family banter, dr strange is very done, hand wavey comic book magic, octo!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27228211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiotFalling/pseuds/RiotFalling
Summary: Another day, another magical mishap. At least most of the team gets hit this time, and Tony is really trying to focus on that rather than one person in particular.It’s not his fault! He grew up with the internet!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Curse you, Bucky! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987873
Comments: 31
Kudos: 267
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV





	Deep as the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Deep as the Ocean  
> Collaborator(s): Riot  
> BBB Square Filled: Y5, Occupational Hazard  
> TSB (card 4052) Square Filled: K3, WTF  
> Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIron  
> Rating: E  
> Major Tags/Warnings: established relationship, hand wavey comic book magic, banter, humor, octo!Bucky, consentacles, Confirmed monsterfucker Tony Stark Summary: Another day, another magical mishap. At least most of the team gets hit this time, and Tony is really trying to focus on that rather than one person in particular. It’s not his fault! He grew up with the internet!  
> Word Count: 6.6k

It starts with a magical, and _very angry,_ environmentalist. 

Because of course it does, that’s just the way their lives go.

And look, Tony gets it, _he also_ agrees that the oceans are important and should be protected, he’s completely on board with that. What he _can’t_ get behind is turning random beach vacationers into horrible fish-monsters in an effort to get the point across.

The fight itself goes pretty well. No one gets mauled by horrible enslaved half-human monsters, because it turns out all it took was one look at the Hulk and all the fishpeople apparently deemed the giant green man their new leader or something. They’ve mostly just been following him in large circles up and down the beach, leaving the rest of the team free to focus on the magic man.

Tony actually feels a little bad about how easy things get once the villain of the week loses his army to a laughing Hulk, so naturally it’s right at the end when everything goes sideways. 

Because it turns out their angry environmentalist is the _‘go out with a bang’_ type, and Tony is just glad he’s up in the safety of the air when the magical smoke cloud engulfs most of the team. Based on the look of smug-yet-guilty relief on Sam’s face when Tony glances over, he’s having the same thought.

“I don’t think that went the way our evil wizard was intending,” Tony says as he and Sam come in for a landing near the rest of the team, who are still looking _mostly_ human and blinking at each other in confusion. 

“Is everyone okay?” Sam asks, then wrinkles his nose as he glances over at Steve and adds “You know, relatively speaking?”

“Man, what the _fuck,”_ Clint whines, hands clapped over either side of his neck, “This is why I like to fight from a _distance._ This kind of shit is way funnier when it’s only happening to other people.”

“I’m doing just peachy,” Natasha says dryly, looking remarkably calm considering she currently has a fish tail instead of legs.

“You make a wonderful mermaid,” Tony tells her brightly, “Now someone please scoop up the magic bastard before he scuttles away.”

“I feel weird about arresting a crab, even if he _was_ just a human wizard trying to kill us all,” Sam says, but manages to scoop up the averaged-sized, if neon blue, crab without getting himself pinched and Steve flashes him a thumbs up.

Well, Steve flashes a thumbs up at the general area three feet to the left of Sam, but they all know what he’s going for. Considering that Steve’s eyes are currently big and glassy and bulging out of his skull, they should probably just be impressed he’s pointed anywhere _near_ Sam.

“Hey, hey Tony,” Bucky says and Tony can _hear_ his smirk even though he’s _refusing_ to look over. 

Tony had gotten a glimpse of Bucky’s fish monster transformation when he first landed and he just... _cannot_ _deal with that right now._

“Tony,” Bucky says again, and then something slaps wetly against the leg of Tony’s armor and he’s looking down before he can stop himself.

There’s a tentacle on his shin, slowly wrapping it’s way around his leg, shimmering deep red and black in the bright sunlight.

Tony maybe squeaks embarrassingly before jerking his eyes up again, which leads to him accidentally meeting Bucky’s gaze, and the smug, heated smirk on Bucky’s face has Tony’s breath catching in his throat. 

Then Bucky has the gall to actually _wave at him_ with the thin, tapered tip of one of his _eight tentacles,_ while the one still wrapped around Tony’s leg tap-tap-taps against his armor and Tony is lucky he stays standing as his stomach gives a hot, _vicious_ twist.

“Goddamnit Bucky, I was joking!” Tony says, throwing his hands in the air and quickly looking away again. He really shouldn’t have opened the faceplate when he landed, because he’s sure that his flushed face must be giving him away.

“Do I want to know? I don’t think I want to know.” Clint says, most of his attention on poking at his newly acquired gills, and then slapping at Sam when he tries to poke the other side of Clint’s neck.

“You very much don’t,” Tony says, and can’t help taking just a little bit of glee in Clint’s expression. 

He then very carefully _keeps_ his gaze fixed on Clint, doing his best to ignore the fact that out of the corner of his eye he can _absolutely_ see Bucky slowly wobbling his way closer, unsteady on his _eight writhing tentacles._

“My eyes hurt,” Steve says conversationally, “I don’t think I have eyelids.”

“You don’t _look_ like you have eyelids,” Sam says, and Tony quickly drags his gaze over to Steve because yes, Steve and his hilarious fish eyes, that’s a safe distraction.

It’s _almost_ enough to fight down the heat trying to build in Tony’s gut, the way his blood is rushing undeniably and inescapably _south._

Tony wants to point out that the look is _not_ working for Steve, but then another dark, nimble limb _tap tap taps_ against his shoulder and before he can stop himself he’s glancing over at Bucky again.

Bucky smiles at him brightly, taps the very tip of the tentacle against Tony’s jaw, and Tony’s cock throbs almost _painfully,_ blood rushing south so quickly that it leaves him a little lightheaded.

“Why can’t you just be a normal floppy mermaid like Nat?!” Tony demands in a voice that cracks uncomfortably, because _seriously,_ he can’t even _look_ at Bucky for too long. 

The way Bucky crosses his thick arms and smirks wider is _not_ helping.

“I am not floppy,” Natasha says, narrowing her eyes and it kind of looks like she’s considering how best to smack him with her tail. 

Tony shuffles a couple steps away, honestly grateful for the distraction. And the excuse to escape Bucky’s clutches.

“If you slap me, I’m not going to carry you to the wizard doctor,” he tells Natasha, “you’ll have to ride with fish eyes over there.”

“Hey!” Steve says with a pout, but he’s not facing any of them anymore.

The Hulk makes a questioning sound as he stomps past them again, the poor cursed fishpeople lumbering along happily behind him, and yeah they should probably do something about that too.

“Strange is going to be so pissed,” Tony says and he can’t quite hide his glee, even as Natasha shifts her weight onto her arms and swings her tail up to smack him in the chest.

* * *

Strange _is_ in fact pissed when they come stomping and/or lurching into his _‘sanctum’_ with their evil crab in tow,but Tony absolutely catches him laughing when Steve walks into a door frame and drops Natasha.

“You are getting sand... _everywhere,”_ he says, like he’s physically pained, and he would no doubt kick them out if there was anywhere else to send them. 

That’ll teach him to be the only trustworthy wizard in the city.

“Hey man, you’re not the one with sand in your shorts,” Clint says, because he can always be counted on to be classy. 

“Do you have any idea how many nooks and crannies I have for sand to get into?” Tony asks, and then bends his arm to show the way half the beach falls out of the shifting, moving parts of the armor.

“Do you want to take off the armor at least?” Sam asks, already shrugging out of his wings and shaking himself off.

“I do not,” Tony says flatly, because if he takes off the suit everyone is _absolutely_ going to know that Tony is so hard it would be painful even if he _weren’t_ trapped in unforgiving metal.

It’s not his fault, okay?! He stumbled upon a website or two in his formative years and the idea just kind of... _stuck._ Way down deep in the back of his mind, because it was never supposed to _matter._

_Tentacles, what the fuck._

The point is, Tony is staying firmly and safely in the armor, where no one can judge him.

“Please don’t take the suit off,” Strange says with a pained expression and for a terrifying second Tony thinks that he _knows_. But no, Strange is just eyeing the sandy mess of his foyer as he adds “Just... hold still and keep all your sand to yourselves, please. I’m going to run a few tests.”

 _‘A few tests’_ mostly means waving his hands at them, putting on a light show and muttering to himself. 

Tony does his best to just focus on watching closely, hoping everyone will chalk it up to his usual mistrust of magic and _not_ that he’s doing everything he can to avoid having to so much as _glance_ at his boyfriend.

Chiming in to help Clint mock Steve is a pretty good distraction at least, and it’s even better when Sam gets distracted trying to poke at Clint’s gills again and gets himself pinched by the wizard crab.

The flaw, of course, is that eventually Strange gets to Bucky and suddenly Tony can’t focus on anything _else._

He's not sure if it's because the environmentalist asshole wizard was running out of steam by that last blast of magic or what, but compared to the scaly abominations he'd originally been creating Bucky actually looks... _good._

And sure, Tony is biased, he always thinks Bucky looks good, but even objectively the man is really rocking the half-octopus look.

Tony's eyes get stuck for a long minute on the cut of Bucky’s hips below his tacvest, the barest sliver of pale skin before it smoothly shifts to a deep black, shimmering slightly red in the stupid lighting of the sanctum. The color lightens near the tapered tips of the long limbs and yep, Tony is absolutely staring now and _wow,_ is it hot and bothered in here or is that just him?

He _is_ a little curious what happened to Bucky and Natasha’s pants, but that’s probably the type of question that’s best left unasked, because the answer is _‘magic’,_ and Tony _hates_ that answer.

“How does this keep happening to you?” Strange asks as he continues waving his hands around Bucky in a presumably useful way.

“Risk of the job?” Bucky says with an easy shrug and the flare of tentacles sprouting from his hips _don’t_ make his shoulders look extra wide, they _don’t,_ except that _oh god_ they absolutely do.

Just like it _doesn’t_ make Tony’s stomach flip all over itself when Bucky looks up, catches him staring, and _winks._

“I’m calling OSHA,” Sam grumbles, still pouting over the blister forming on his thumb from where he was crab-pinched.

“You didn’t even get magic whammied!” Clint protests, both hands clapped over his neck protectively because Steve has taken up trying to poke his gills too.

“And I’m not waiting until it happens to me!” Sam says, throwing his hands in the air.

“My eyes still hurt,” Steve says, and he’s definitely pouting about it now.

There are several half-shouted responses to that, including Tony’s suggestion that Steve go stick his head in the birdbath out front, Natasha saying something about fishbowls, and Clint’s gleeful suggestion of consensual swirlies.

 _“I’ll look into it,”_ Strange declares loudly, speaking over them all and pointedly _not_ inviting them to stay while he does. “Call me if it wears off first this time, please,” he adds, shooting Clint a flat look.

“Yeah yeah—“

“Because last time, you just let me keep looking until I had to learn that you were no longer a chipmunk from TV.”

“In my defense,” Clint says, “I had chipmunk brain.”

“You _still_ have chipmunk brain, Alvin,” Tony says.

“Excuse you, I’m totally a Theodore.”

“You’re an Alvin and we all know it,” Natasha says, patting Clint gently on the leg with the end of her tail and it really is amazing how quickly they all seem to have gotten used to their new fish parts.

Which leads to Tony _almost_ thinking about the all-too graceful way Bucky has been moving slowly _closer,_ all muscle and careful, stalking control.

But no, Tony shuts that down and doesn’t let himself think about it, not even a little bit. Not even when he feels one of those tentacles wrap around his shin again.

"Who was the smart chipmunk again?" Sam asks thoughtfully "I want to be that one. I'm the real brains of the operation."

"Does that make Steve Theodore?" Natasha wonders.

"Please, _I'm_ Theodore," Tony says, "'Cause I'm cuddly and sweet. Steve is the mean human who's always yelling at us."

 _"Hey,"_ Steve protests, glaring at a spot somewhere over Tony’s head.

“Get out,” Strange says, and that’s about all the warning they get.

* * *

Strange portals them back to the compound at least, which is nice of him, though Tony is pretty sure it’s just to keep them from leaving behind more sand on their way out. And he doesn’t even know about all the fish monsters the Hulk is undoubtedly going to start herding in soon.

It’s _less nice_ that Strange dumps them out of the portal directly above the pool in the gym, and Tony barely kicks on the repulsors before he hits the water. 

Which is fun, because it means he aggressively splashes everyone else, and also handy because he _really_ doesn’t want to add ‘dry _and_ de-sand the armor’ to his to-do list today. 

As it is, all he really wants is to get to his room where he can hide his shame and furiously jerk off in peace. 

It’s not so much to ask, really.

“Okay, well, I think you’re all good here,” Tony says as he thumps down onto the tile beside the pool, even though no one seems to be paying him a damn bit of attention though. 

Sam is already pulling himself out of the water and stomping off, Steve seems happily distracted splashing water into his own eyes, and Natasha is laughing as she swims literal circles around a flailing Clint.

“I’m just gonna... go,” Tony says weakly, already backing towards the door, “Clean out my suit. Yep.”

With that he turns and bails, bails as quickly as his sand-encrusted metal joints will allow, and he’s in such a hurry to get to the workshop that he barely even registers that Bucky is following him.

It’s basically routine anyways, Bucky follows him back to the lab after a mission more often than not these days because he _insists_ on looking Tony over himself.

Honestly, you hide a major injury or seven and suddenly no one trusts you.

It doesn’t even occur to Tony why this might be a problem until he’s stepping into the lab and halfway through saying ”Bet they’re never going to complain about the pool being salt water again, do—“ Then he squeaks, face heating within the safety of the helmet, and demands “Why aren’t you swimming with everyone else?!”

“I want to make sure you’re not injured,” Bucky says, but he has his _‘innocent and trustworthy’_ face on, not his _‘I think Tony is hiding injuries again’_ face, and Tony is instantly suspicious.

“I'm fine, and I think you know it,” Tony says, narrowing his eyes to hopefully hide the fact that his stomach is giving a dangerous little twist.

 _Damnit_ he never should have told that stupid joke about hoping Bucky sprouts tentacles next time, because now it _is_ next time, and now Bucky _knows,_ and there’s no way he’s going to let this go. 

Tony is as flustered as he is _excited._

“Then why haven’t you taken off the suit yet?” Bucky asks and his tone is still innocent, but the look in his eyes says he knows _exactly_ why, and all Tony is doing is delaying the inevitable. 

He’s also slowly tugging open the straps and catches of his tacvest, which kind of gives him and his dastardly intentions away. It’s also _wildly unfair,_ because he _knows_ what that sight does to Tony, and what was Tony even embarrassed about again?!

So he gives up with a heavy sigh that is entirely for show, lets the armor start to unfold around him and directs his pout at the far wall. 

The cool air of the lab is a relief on his flushed skin, and no longer being trapped in the unforgiving metal of the armor is _definitely_ a relief on his aching cock. Even if that relief is immediately followed by the long-ignored burn of arousal in his gut flaring to life, demanding attention and leaving him breathless.

“Don’t judge me, okay, I grew up with the internet,” Tony grumbles as he finishes stepping out of the suit, wiggling his bare toes against the cold ground and wishing he’d thought to pull on more clothes before he’d run off to jump in the armor this morning. 

His threadbare pajama pants and shrunken sleep shirt are _definitely_ not hiding how flustered he is, and he has the uncomfortable feeling that his thin pants are already tellingly wet where they’re stretched tight over the head of his cock.

He’s refusing to look down to confirm though, instead keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the far wall to hopefully preserve even a tiny shred of his dignity. Assuming he still has any, Tony honestly isn’t sure anymore, he’s having a hard time even _thinking_ at this point and he’s pretty sure there is _zero_ blood left in his brain.

Bucky doesn’t say anything at all though, and after a second Tony glances over at him only to find that Bucky has apparently moved and how, _how_ is he so stealthy even with octopus legs?!

Before Tony can spin to look for him Bucky is plastered against his back, human arms wrapped around his middle and _oh god_ long, nimble octopus arms wrapping around the rest of him, winding around his thighs and down his legs, one of them draped up over his shoulder with the thin tip sliding _so lightly_ along the line of his throat.

“Oh- _fuck—“_ Tony gasps as his legs nearly collapse out from under him, his entire body flushing molten hot.

It’s only Bucky’s many, _many_ limbs tightening around him that keeps him standing, stealing what little brain power Tony had left in the process.

“You’ve barely even been able t’ _look_ at me,” Bucky says, lips dragging up the back of Tony’s neck and his voice as smug as anything, “So hot for this, ain’t ya?”

“I’m always hot for you,” Tony tries to argue, because he _is,_ but his voice comes out breathless and he’s shaking in Bucky’s hold and his argument really doesn’t hold much weight.

“Yeah, but I think you’re extra hot for _this,”_ Bucky says, low and teasing and _knowing_ as he tightens his hold on Tony _everywhere._

The very tip of one tentacle brushes over Tony's lower lip and his mouth falls open with a sharp gasp, tongue flicking out to chase it without thought. He groans at the feel of it, slick and just a little salty from being dumped in the pool and _so smooth._ Just like the ones shifting over his arms, sliding up the leg of his pants, and Tony lets out a shaking moan as the suckers drag teasingly over his skin.

“Yeah,” Bucky says smugly, easily sliding his palms up Tony's chest amid the mess of writhing limbs, “Knew you weren’t jokin’ about the tentacles.”

"That, that's n-not, _ah—"_ Tony's weak protest breaks off in a ragged gasp at the scrape of Bucky's teeth over the back of his neck. He struggles weakly against Bucky's hold, mostly just to feel the way Bucky tightens around him and rumbles with soft laughter.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks, low and teasing, and Tony gasps as one of the limbs wrapped around his middle slides under the waistband of his pants and straight into his boxers, swiping over the head of his aching cock. “‘Cause you’re already wet, sweetheart, leakin’ like this an’ I barely even touched you yet.”

“You _are_ touching me,” Tony points out with a huff, but he’s much more concerned with trying to arch his hips forward into Bucky’s touch and then whining pitifully when he _can’t move at all._

“Nah, sweet thing, I’ve just gotten started,” Bucky breathes out hot against the shell of his ear as another limb slides up Tony’s pant leg, wrapping around his calf.

It’s almost pathetic how easily he collapses when Bucky gives even the slightest push, but Tony is mostly just excited to give up the ruse of actually supporting himself on his shaking legs. 

The only thing that keeps him from face planting straight into the ground is Bucky wrapped around him, lowering him gently until Tony can catch himself on his hands and knees with Bucky’s broad chest against his back, thick human arms bracketing him in and other, distinctly _less-_ human arms winding all around him. 

“O-oh, _god,”_ Tony gasps out, shuddering hard as the tentacle down the front of sweats twines around his cock, rubbing and stroking and _fuck_ that is so unfair. Tony’s brain is already melting out of his ears and Bucky just keeps touching him _more,_ firm and strong and _perfect._

More tentacles slide beneath the hem of his pants, looping against his skin and then tugging his sweats down over his hips even though they don’t fall far, not with the way his thighs are wrapped up several times over. They’re _everywhere,_ suckers dragging against his inner thighs, sliding under his shirt and trailing teasingly light up his chest.

“Bucky, just- _ah,”_ Tony breaks off with an embarrassing whimper when the grip around his cock tightens a little, tip of the tentacle dragging firmly over the head and smearing precum over his skin. Another one slides down the small of his back, pressing into his crack and then dragging up and down against the skin with slow, deliberate motions, until Tony is trying desperately to rock back into it and gasping out _“Please.”_

It’s _so much,_ Bucky wrapped all around him, completely surrounding him, skin still slick with water as it slides against Tony’s own. The stroking along his cock is tight and smooth, the tentacles curling around his chest drag over his nipples with a firm pressure, and Tony tosses his head back with a loud cry. 

He shakes and writhes in place, trying to arch his chest forward into the sensation, trying to rock his hips down into the grip of the tentacle wrapped tight around his cock and then back into the pressure of the one dragging over his hole.

“You looks so good like this, so overwhelmed, just fuckin’ _lost_ in it,” Bucky says in a low growl, crowding in impossibly closer until Tony's wet shirt clings to the damp skin of Budays chest, rucking it up higher and leaving more skin exposed for wandering limbs to rub against.

The thin tip of one tentacle presses against Tony’s hole, curling and twisting against the ring of muscle. It pulls a ragged cry out of his chest that only gets louder as the limb wrapped around him twists in place and the line of suckers finally press into his skin, covering his nipples and down his stomach, up his throat, applying the lightest suction.

It’s just enough to have blood rushing hot beneath Tony’s skin, every inch of him tingling with it as bolts of heated pleasure burn down his spine, until the fire in his gut spreads through his whole body, _burning him alive._

“You’re not even listenin’ to me, are ya sugar?” Bucky asks with a low chuckle, lips and teeth trailing along Tony's jaw while the suction over his nipples increases.

“Please,” Tony gasps out mindlessly, rocking his hips back into the too-light pressure, “please, I- _ah!”_ Tony cuts off with a ragged sound as the tentacle curling against his hole just _barely_ presses inside him, twisting and rubbing and lighting up all his nerves from the inside out.

It doesn't press any deeper though, just barely working inside him until Tony drops his head down again with a shaking wail, hips twitching in Bucky's hold.

“Please, please, _Bucky-“_ Tony whines out and he’s so wound up it almost _hurts,_ his stomach pulled tight in burning knots and his cock _aching_ as the limb wrapped around it continues to stroke him _so slowly._

He’s barely aware of the broken pleas continuing to spill out of him, all he knows is that his entire body is molten with it and _fuck_ it already feels like he’s right on the edge, like he could fall apart at any moment.

When the tentacle _finally_ presses in deeper Tony’s breath catches in his chest entirely, jolting in place and Bucky is the only thing holding him up, the grip around his cock tightening the only thing stopping him from coming right then and there. And then it pressed _deeper,_ slowly spreading him open, curling and twisting inside him until Tony is wailing out a ragged sound, still straining impossibly against Bucky’s grip on him in an effort to rock himself back into it.

“So greedy," Bucky groans, low and fond, dragging the tip of one tentacle over the head of Tony's cock, barest hint of suction along the base, "I’m already touchin’ you everywhere and you just want _more,_ don’t ya?”

“More,” Tony repeats instantly, his entire body shaking, arms weak and chest heaving in Bucky’s hold, _burning,_ _“Please-“_

The limb buried inside him withdraws slowly, _twisting_ and seemingly rubbing up against his every nerve in the process, and Tony barely has time to whine about it before another one is pressing against his hole, thicker, throbbing as it sinks into him.

Tony’s ragged cry is cut short by another tentacle sliding between his lips, curling around his tongue and then curling around itself, filling his mouth and stretching his jaw wide.

“You feel so good like this baby, I can feel you _everywhere,”_ Bucky’s voice is low and rough as his lips drag up the line of Tony’s neck, “I can _taste_ you.”

The thick tentacle twists inside him, spreading him wide, and Tony lets out a long, low moan that comes out muffled, mouth still stuffed so perfectly full and spit running freely down his chin.

Fuck he feels full _everywhere,_ the tentacle pressing deeper inside him, rubbing against his prostate as the one in his mouth teases over his tongue, another thin tip dragging over his wet lips.

Tony whines pitifully, reduced to shaking in place as the tip of yet another tentacles slips in alongside the one that’s already buried deep inside him, tugging at his rim and drawing a weak groan out of him.

Bucky’s teeth press briefly against his throat, scrape over the shell of Tony’s ear, and he sounds a little breathless himself as he grows _“Fuck_ I can feel the way you’re shakin’ for it, you ready babydoll?”

The suckers are still dragging over his skin, plucking at his nipples and the head of his cock until Tony is nearly sobbing. Then he forgets about breathing entirely as the tentacle _finally_ starts actually thrusting into him, fucking him open wide and _so deep,_ so thick, feeling like it’s still impossibly swelling inside him and Tony tosses his head back again, keening with it.

Tony’s head is spinning, pleasure spreading through his entire body with every deep press of the Bucky inside him, every shift and drag of the other tentacles against his skin sending bright bursts of pleasure down his spine. Until it feels like his building orgasm might just burn him alive when it finally breaks and still Tony can’t stop the desperate, muffled noises from spilling out of him, trying to beg for _more._

“You wanna come baby?” Bucky asks in a low growl, speeding up his thrusts, taking Tony completely apart. He laughs roughly when Tony lets out a high whine, tentacle tightening its grip on Tony’s cock and stroking him harder.

The sound that bursts out of Tony is more of a pathetic whine than anything, bright bolts of pleasure shooting through him with every hard thrust, every deep press of the tentacle inside him and drag over his prostate. He’s close, he’s _so close,_ and Tony keens again as his entire body tightens with it, clenching around the limb still fucking into him and his cock throbbing in the hold of the tentacle wrapped around it.

“C’mon doll, come for me,” Bucky demands, practically a snarl, and the tentacle stuffed into his mouth pulls away just in time to let Tony’s shouted cry echo loudly around the workshop.

Tony would swear he whites out completely, blinding pleasure burning through him so ferociously that for several long seconds all he can feel is the almost _painful_ throb of his cock as he _finally_ comes, the increasingly slick slide of Bucky’s tentacle still wrapped around it, still stroking him quickly.

Bucky is still wrapped around him _everywhere,_ not lightening his grip at all, keeping Tony held firm and he can’t even thrash in place, can’t do anything but _take it_ as Bucky fucks him right through the orgasm, completely breaks him apart.

Everything goes a little fuzzy, just an overwhelming onslaught of sensation as heat continues spiraling through Tony in an endless loop. He can feel Bucky’s rough groan rumbling against his arched back, the tightening of Bucky’s tentacles all around him and Bucky’s teeth diging into the curve of his shoulder. The tentacles inside him twist and press _deeper_ before Bucky finally comes with a loud growl, tentacle swelling even further and then _flooding_ Tony with cum.

Full, god he’s so _full,_ it ends up spilling out of him even around the wide limb holding him open, thick and viscous as it runs down his thighs.

Tony pants brokenly, gasping for air as Bucky’s hold on him finally goes a little slack, just enough so that Tony can suck in giant lungfuls of air without letting him collapse face down into the ground. His inner muscles are still clenching sporadically around the tentacle buried inside him, and when it shifts Tony moans weakly at the feeling of more cum spilling out of him.

His shirt is rucked up around his chest and clinging to him with sweat and water from Bucky’s skin, cum running down his skin and soaking into his sweats where they’re still trapped around his thighs. 

Tony’s brain comes back online slowly, entirely too slowly, mostly because it tries to fuzz out all over again every time Bucky drags in a deep, steadying breath and his chest presses into Tony’s back, so much skin on skin. 

Eventually though Tony’s head clears enough for something to occur to him, and he lets out a drawn out groan of complaint.

“I _really_ hope everyone is still in the pool,” Tony whines, letting his head hang low again as he realizes he’s going to have to somehow get to his _room_ like this. And he’s _still_ a little breathless.

He _really_ doesn’t want the _‘stop mentally scarring your teammates’_ speech from Steve again. Or worse, _Bruce._

Bucky hums, sounding wildly unconcerned with their possible upcoming lecture, and his limbs continue twitching and shifting against Tony’s skin like he’s not even aware that he’s doing it. 

“My room isn’t far,” Bucky finally says, voice low and rough and lazy.

“My bathtub is bigger,” Tony argues, because his bathtub is practically a jacuzzi and it seems like a great way to both get clean _and_ keep his dumb octopus-boyfriend from drying out.

If that even _is_ a thing they need to worry about, who knows. None of his formulative years of internet scrolling had prepared him for _that_ question, and Tony is still too orgasm-stupid to remember a damn thing about real, non-magical sea life right now.

“Yeah, but my room is closer,” Bucky points out, lips dragging along the curve of Tony’s shoulder again.

Tony considers that, along with the fact that his legs are still shaking uselessly and the fact that Bucky is still the only thing holding him up.

“We can make it work,” Tony says decisively.

He has to lean on Bucky pretty heavily on the shuffling walk to Bucky’s room, pretending to swat at Bucky’s tentacles when they inevitably wind around him again. At least the entire thing is free from pesky teammate witnesses.

Bucky’s bathtub is nowhere near as big at Tony’s, but it _is_ still a pretty decent size. Because it’s not like Tony was going to cheap out on _any_ of the rooms in the compound, after all.

It’s a bit of a squeeze, getting both of them _and_ all of Bucky’s extra limbs into the water, but they make it work.

* * *

Tony wakes up the next morning completely wrapped in tentacles, nearly head to toe, and he can barely move a muscle. It’s kind of ridiculous how safe he feels. 

A second later he wrinkles his nose and squints one eye open as he asks “What- is it _humid_ in here?”

Because seriously, the air is _thick_ with it, heavy and warm. The blankets are shoved down to the end of the bed and there’s already a thin sheen of sweat collecting on Tony’s skin, making it _so easy_ for the tentacles to slide and stroke over his skin.

“So I don’t dry out,” Bucky says, fingers sliding through Tony’s hair and for a second Tony is tempted to forget all about his questions in favor of falling right back to sleep and maybe purring happily for good measure.

But he can’t resist asking “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just go hang out in the pool with everyone else? If they’re still there and equally fishy, of course.”

“Didn’t want to leave,” Bucky says and clings to him a little tighter, as if that’s a reasonable explanation for probably causing water damage to the inside of his room.

“I can’t believe this is even an _option,_ FRIDAY has too much power,” Tony grumbles without an ounce of actual heat, his heart feeling as warm as the rest of him, like he’s melting in the heat of the room. Still, he can’t help pointing out “I hope you don’t have anything in here that’s going to be ruined.”

“Worth it,” Bucky says, happy and warm and completely unconcerned.

Tony hums thoughtfully, and finally makes a decision on that idea he’s been turning over in his head for a couple weeks now.

“Well,” he says slowly, “When this room inevitably grows black mold, I suppose you’ll just have to move in with me.”

For a second Bucky doesn’t respond, all of his tentacles freezing in the act of tracing over Tony’s skin and Tony desperately tries to tell himself that it’s fine. It’s _fine,_ even if Bucky doesn’t want to share a room, they still basically live together already anyways, Bucky still loves him, probably—

“You mean it?” Bucky asks, sounding a little breathless, and when he props himself up on one elbow to look down at Tony the smile on his face is almost blindingly bright.

“Only because black mold is _bad,”_ Tony says but the smile spreading across his own face is almost painfully wide.

Bucky nods with a thoughtful expression, like he’s giving Tony’s reasoning serious thought, and then says “FRIDAY, please crank the humidity.”

“FRI, don’t you dare,” Tony protests, although his attempts at a horrified tone are kind of ruined by his wide grin, “I already can’t _breathe_ in here!”

“Humidity increased 3%,” FRIDAY says dryly and Bucky laughs while Tony gasps loudly in outrage. “Also, Agent Barton has asked me to inform you that you’re not invited to the pool party unless you, in his words, act like normal people.”

Bucky laughs harder while Tony groans loudly and slaps his hands over his eyes, face _burning_ because yeah it’s probably pretty telling that they came home and then immediately disappeared for... twelve hours.

“I’m not going to be able to look any of them in the face for another month,” Tony whines, kicking his legs a little until Bucky’s many limbs shift and tighten around him, making his breath catch in his throat.

"Confirmed monster fucker," Bucky says and pats his hips with one tentacle, voice full of sympathy even though Tony can absolutely feel the way he’s still shaking with laughter.

"I hate you so much,” Tony says without moving his hand, although he can admit (to himself) that this one is entirely on him. 

"Nah,” Bucky says, completely and endearingly unconcerned with Tony’s threats, “You _love_ me, you want me to _move in.”_

"Offer rescinded,” Tony declares, peeking at Bucky from between his fingers before letting his hands fall back to the bed and instead fixing Bucky with a flat look as he adds, “You can just stay here in your moldy swamp room for all I care.”

"Too late for that darlin', you're stuck with me," Bucky says, smirking as he pops one of his suckers loudly against Tony’s skin and then grinning wider when Tony responds with a full-body shudder.

“Only because you’re so clingy,” Tony tries to complain, but it’s pretty unconvincing when his voice comes out a little breathy and he can’t help wrapping his own arms around Bucky in return.

“You love it,” Bucky says again, and Tony can only shrug sheepishly because yeah, he really kind of does.

“Fine,” Tony says with a heavy sigh as he pushes his fingers into Bucky’s hair and uses that grip to pull Bucky’s dumb smiling face up into kissing range, “You and your many limbs can move into my room. But the humidity isn’t invited.”

“Yay,” Bucky cheers quietly and then laughs when Tony huffs and bites at the curve of his jaw.

“Yeah yeah, stop being smug and kiss me already,” Tony grumbles even though he can’t stop himself from smiling either, heart jumping at the open joy on Bucky’s face, the way it practically makes his eyes shine.

“I can do both,” Bucky says, impossibly _more_ smug, and then finally kisses Tony before he can say anything else.

Tony is all too happy to let himself sink into it, sighing softly as Bucky wraps around him tighter, kisses him deeper. The heat and humidity of the room means the drag of skin on skin is slick and easy as Bucky shifts against him, making him shiver at the drag and press of all that muscle, all those _limbs._

“So, how long do you think this’ll actually last?” Tony asks between dizzying kisses, arching up into it as one of the tentacles slides over his hip, tantalizingly close to his cock.

“Hopefully long enough,” Bucky says with a smirk, and the tentacle wrapped around Tony’s thigh sides a little higher.

“Long enough for _what?”_ Tony demands, faking horror even as a hard shudder runs through him, even though Bucky can no doubt feel it. Hell, Bucky can probably feel the way Tony’s breath catches and his heart starts beating double time in his chest.

Bucky smirks and makes a thoughtful noise, even though Tony is pretty sure he’s been up for at least an hour now thinking about it, and drags one tentacle along the crease of Tony’s thigh while another _finally_ wraps around his cock. 

“Long enough to get you spread out for me in this bed,” Bucky says, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead while Tony gasps and rocks his hips up into the touch, “All bare and stretched out and pinned down, long enough to see you lose yourself for me again, how does that sound babydoll?” 

Tony can only whimper in response, try to clench his thighs shut just so he can feel the way the tentacles pull them open again. “Good, sounds good,” he pants out because _fuck it,_ why lie, and Bucky is laughing as he leans in to kiss him again.


End file.
